A Better Future
by HufflepuffPrefect
Summary: At the height of the First Wizarding War, the Weasleys, the Longbottoms, the Malfoys, and the Potters each discuss their hopes for a better future for their children.  One-shot.


Disclaimer: The Harry Potter series and all of its characters are the property of J.K. Rowling and Warner Brothers.

A Better Future

After dealing with the usual whining, sorting out who was wearing whose pajamas, breaking up assorted small squabbles, listening to at least two very important stories, and bringing last drinks of water, Molly and Arthur had finally gotten all the children in bed. Molly was used to chaos, but it still wasn't an easy task. Having many children to take care of was second nature, true, but she'd never had to deal with pregnancy and an infant at the same time before. It was exhausting.

She got ready for bed herself and climbed under the covers, part of her wondering if it had been entirely a good idea to have another baby so soon, part of her thinking about how she'd love this baby every bit as much as her others. Arthur lay down beside her. "Are you alright, love?" he asked.

Molly nodded. "Just tired." She leaned her head against his shoulder. "But I'm doing fine, really."

"You're sure?" Arthur asked. "You should rest more, Mollywobbles. You don't want to be completely drained before the baby's even born."

Molly smiled. "I'll be alright," she said. "Seven can't be much more work than six, and nothing can be more work than twins."

Arthur returned her smile. "That's true," he said, "but it'll mean more budgeting, and—"

"We've talked about all this before, Arthur," Molly said. There was no reason to dwell on possible problems now. Where would it get them? "We'll be fine. He won't lack for hand-me-downs, anyway. He can have all his brothers' things—even if he's a girl." They laughed together, but they didn't discuss the baby's gender any further. They both knew that she'd wanted a girl for a while now and that it was nobody's fault that they'd had six wonderful boys instead. They didn't need to talk about something they both understood.

"I know we'll be fine," said Arthur, "but…I wish we could be more than fine, Molly. I wish we didn't have to worry about money like this." He sighed. "I ought to be more ambitious."

"What would I want with an ambitious husband?" Molly scoffed. "You care about the things that matter, Arthur. What you're doing with the Order—that's much more important than being ambitious at work." She kissed his cheek. "What good would all the money in the world do the children if…if people were still being killed right and left, if everyone believed that only Purebloods deserve to live? You're making things better for our children, Arthur, and they should be proud to have you." She hadn't meant to make a speech, but there were some things that needed to be said. "Bill and Charlie understand what you're fighting for, at least a bit. And I—I am so proud of you. No matter what."

Arthur pulled her close. "My wonderful Molly," he said. He didn't say anything more, but it didn't matter. There were some things that needed to be said, and there were some things that didn't.

"Things will get better," Arthur said at last. "In every way. With the war…and with money."

Molly smiled. "Of course they will." Even if they never got rich—and with seven children, how could they?—they'd always manage somehow.

* * *

><p>Frank and Alice hadn't spoken much when they'd returned home. They'd retrieved Neville from Frank's mother, thanking her for staying with him, and put him to bed for the night. Now, with Neville asleep, they sat down together, still silent.<p>

Frank spoke at last. "I hate having to do that."

"I know you do," said Alice. "So do I. But there wasn't anything else you could have done tonight."

"You're right," said Frank, "but I…I don't know. You'd think you'd get used to having to kill people, but…"

"Why would you want to get used to it?" Alice asked. "It's not the sort of thing one should get used to, Frank. The Death Eaters are used to it; that's what makes them horrible."

Frank sighed. "I know, Alice," he said, "and I've tried telling myself all that. It's just…it's Neville, Alice. I don't want him growing up thinking that killing is just something people do, thinking that it's alright because we've done it…"

"And I don't want him growing up without parents because we didn't defend ourselves when we needed to!" Alice replied. "Frank, you had to kill Wilkes tonight, or he would have killed you. That's all there is to it. I know you don't want to kill anyone, and I certainly don't think you should like killing people, but we have to do what we have to do, Frank. That's what will help Neville. We can't let the Death Eaters win." She took his hand. "I know how you feel, Frank. I really do. I wonder about the same things. Sometimes I ask myself if we're being good parents by putting ourselves in all this danger."

It was Frank's turn to reassure his wife. "It's like you said," he told her. "We can't let the Death Eaters win. Anyway, everyone's in danger now. We could be killed sitting in our living room just as easily as we could be killed fighting, so we might as well fight. We can at least defend ourselves that way, even if we have to…to kill, I suppose." He stroked her hair. "And I think we are good parents."

Alice smiled. "So do I," she said, "most of the time." Leaning against him, she added, "You're so kind, Frank, and you're so good and gentle with Neville. I'm sure that's what he'll learn from you, not that killing is alright."

"And he'll learn how brave you are," Frank said, "no matter what happens." He continued stroking her hair and added, "We'll be alright," hoping that it was true.

Alice nodded. "We will," she said, "and we'll make sure Neville's happy and safe."

* * *

><p>The House-elf was good for preparing baby food and picking up toys and occasionally rocking the cradle if she was very, very busy, but Narcissa wasn't going to let that thing actually touch her darling son. Tasks that involved physical contact were her job, and tonight she put him to bed as she always did, nursing him and cuddling him and telling him that she loved him very much. When he dropped off to sleep in her arms, she placed him in his cradle and returned to her own bedroom.<p>

Lucius arrived home a few minutes later. He removed his cloak, placing it on a chair, and crossed the room to give her a quick kiss. "Hello, darling," she said, smiling at him. "How was your evening?"

"Not bad," he said. "Less messy than I expected. How's Draco?"

"He's wonderful," she said. "He sat up today—I had to hold him while he was sitting, but he pulled himself up completely on his own." She smiled.

"I'm sorry I missed it," said Lucius.

"Don't worry about it," said Narcissa. "I'm sure he'll do it again, and he'll probably be crawling before we know it. Maybe you can be here to see that."

"By the time he's walking," Lucius said, "I might be home much more often."

"You think so, Lucius?"

"Things are going very well," said Lucius. "I'm not going to make any wild statements, but I wouldn't be surprised if everything was over in a year or so."

Narcissa smiled. "Oh, that would be perfect!" she said. "Just think, darling, how wonderful that would be for all of us."

"Oh, you miss me when I'm not here, do you?"

She cuddled against him; he knew perfectly well how much she did. "Of course I do, but I didn't only mean that. I was thinking of Draco's future—how wonderful it will be for him to grow up in a world where Mudbloods have been taught their place once and for all."

"Well, I quite agree with that, my love," said Lucius. "Not that he'd be associating with them in any case, of course, but it would get tiresome to see them in the streets."

"The sooner you deal with them, the better," said Narcissa, "so I'll try not to miss you too much when you're off on missions."

"I like it when you miss me," said Lucius. "I deserve to be missed."

"You're very vain, darling," Narcissa said, raising an eyebrow, "but why shouldn't you be? We're quite a perfect family all around. And that," she added, "is something that everyone will acknowledge soon enough. It's just silly to run a country by pretending that some people aren't better than others."

* * *

><p>They'd finished putting Harry to bed for the night and returned to the living room. "Game of Chess?" Lily asked.<p>

James shook his head, barely looking at her. "We've played at least six times in the past three days."

"Exploding Snap?"

"I don't feel like it."

"What shall we do then?" Lily asked. "Sit and talk?"

James shrugged. "If you'd like." The two sat down on the sofa, and Lily began to talk about some book she was reading, something that Bathilda had loaned her. James tried to respond and keep up his end of the conversation, but it was no good. He couldn't concentrate.

Lily must have realized this, for she fell silent after a few minutes. When she spoke again, her voice was more serious, even stern. "You have to be patient, James."

"I know," James said, "but for how long?"

"I don't know any more than you do, James—"

"Sometimes I think Dumbledore wants us kept in suspense—"

"—But no matter how long this lasts, you have to be patient! And you may as well start now, or you'll only make this hell for yourself even more than it has to be. If you're getting like this after only a few weeks, what're you going to be like when months have gone by?" Her voice sounded harsh now, but her face showed only concern.

"I know, Lily," said James. "I know I should, and I don't mean to be impatient. Still, it's asking a bit much to expect us to suddenly adjust to spending all our time sitting around, after we've been doing so much…"

"We'll get used to it, James," said Lily. "Of course, it'll still be difficult, but I'm sure we can adjust and find things to do and all that." She smiled. "We'll be able to spend lots of time with Harry, at any rate. That'll be lovely."

James tried to smile back—he knew that she was right—but he still found it difficult. "It will," he said.

"And it'll remind us why we're doing this," Lily said seriously. "Maybe that'll help, James—reminding yourself that we're doing this for Harry. We're keeping him safe, and he will be safe, James. You-Know-Who can't find us here, and eventually this will all be over, and all three of us will be able to go wherever we want and do whatever we feel like doing." She smiled again.

James was able to return her smile this time. "We'll take Harry to a Quidditch match then," he said.

"I'm not quite sure that he would appreciate it," Lily laughed, "or that I would, for that matter. You can go, and we'll meet you afterwards."

"Of course he'll appreciate it," said James, "and you should give Quidditch more of a chance."

Lily rolled her eyes. "If you say so," she said. "We can figure out exactly what we're going to do later. Right now we have to be patient, but we'll have plenty of time to enjoy ourselves later."

"And we'll be able to have fun again," said James, "and so will Harry."

"Of course he will," said Lily. "He probably won't even remember that there was a time when we couldn't."


End file.
